"For many years the New York Central’s mainline, improbably enough, ran through town right down the main street of Syracuse in upper New York. The westbound train was scheduled to go through in the middle of the evening about time dinner was being served and patrons of the diner and club car could and did raise glasses to the equally affable patrons of the town’s saloons visible through the windows and engaged in mutually satisfactory occupations at their respective oases. Now and then a Syracusan more than ordinarily in wine would attempt to climb aboard the observation platform as the train progressed at a snail’s pace down the thouroughfare and a brakeman was stationed there against this contingency. Part of the charm of the trip vanished when the Central’s tracks were rerouted around the town."
Lucius Beebe, “Twentieth Century Limited”